Ser Isaac of Clarke
by talkto1
Summary: Based on the upcoming addon for Dragon Age II, this fanfic will explore the tale of Ser Isaac of Clarke. Rated T for some semi-mature content and possible language.


This short little story is based on an addon for Dragon Age II. The addon is the Ser Isaac of Clarke armor. The description says that there are dark tales of Ser Isaac told by bards in shady bars. It was completely ambiguous, so I'm going to make it up as I go. I'll have it parallel the plot of Dead Space, since that is what it's referencing. I'm also including a reference to Assassin's Creed. See if you can find it. Hope you enjoy!

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Tristan Cousland, Oghren, Leliana, and Morrigan returned to camp to find the rest of the party sitting around the camp fire. Claw looked up and immediately started barking, and ran towards his master. Tristan bent to one knee and stroked the mabari's head and ears. Leliana sat down by the fire, Morrigan sitting across, both of them glaring at each other. Tristan stood and met Sten.

"Kadan, I wish to speak with you."

"Speak plain, Sten," Tristan replied, smiling a little.

"The rest of them talk of tales and fiction. They are lying. Many of the things they mention could not possibly happen. They lie straight to each others faces and I do not understand."

Shale's heavy footsteps thumped the earth as he strode towards the quinari and the warden. He spoke, "I do not understand it, either. Surely it could explain this to me."

Tristan pondered for a moment, then began laughing, "You fools! Those are stories! Tales for entertainment! Things to keep our minds off the encroaching darkspawn!" he kept chuckling.

Sten did not smile or laugh. It was clear he didn't get it. "Nevertheless, I wish to be away from it."

Tristan nodded, "Okay, then you and Shale can guard the camp, if you like."

Sten nodded and strode towards the watchpost, Shale following. Oghren's eyes followed the golem.

"Wow, warden. Didn't know you had a control rod!"

"I don't. Shale's here of his own accord. But enough of that. I have to get these boots off before my feet fall off."

He sat next to Morrigan, who smiled warmly at him. He stripped his armored boots off and let his soaked feet warm by the fire. Oghren leered at Wynne and she gave him a quizzical look.

Tristan spoke, "All right. Before I was a grey warden, I did a study on my troops. It turns out that if my soldiers were allowed to tell camp fire tales through the night, they would be better rested and more prepared for whatever would face them the next day, especially if their commander was among them in an informal setting. So, what I propose is that we tell stories and such for tonight. We've been down and depressed with this whole darkspawn business so lets take a little break. Sten and Shale won't be joining us."

Alistair smiled, "Just in time, too. I've finished dinner!" They plated the stew up and ate it quickly, all hungry for it. Soon, they each began to tell stories. The first ones were of a non-fictional, comical nature. Tristan told of a time where he and his brother were children and were climbing up in the rafters of the castle. They all told stories like this and they were all laughing and having a good time. But Morrigan remained silent. They went into joke telling. Oghren took up most of it with dirty jokes about his sexual prowess. At least, everyone thought they were jokes. And Morrigan remained silent. Leliana soon brought the joke telling to a stand still, and told a sad tale of a soldier who died for his loved one. Everyone was silent. Morrigan scoffed.

Leliana turned on her, "What?"

" 'Tis not the type of tale I would have enjoyed."

Tristan knew this could devolve quickly into a fight and dissuaded the situation, "Any tale is not meant for everyone. But come, tell us a tale that you would have enjoyed."

Morrigan began speaking, and she told a blood-chilling tale, a tale of terror and fear and nightmares. It was about a party of templars who fell to infighting and blood mages. Everyone stared eyes wide and jaws dropped.

Zevran soon told a story of his own. It was about a brotherhood of assassins, sworn to fight a sect of templars during one of the Exhalted Marches. The brotherhood's best assassin was once clouded by pride and was defeated and demoted by the brotherhood's greatest enemy, the leader of the templars. The leader of the brotherhood instructed the once master assassin to relearn his skills and to kill nine men important to the templars plot to take over Thedas. As he killed them, one by one, the men spoke to him strange words of a new world order in the throes of death. The assassin's master was also very secretive, and wouldn't answer the questions of the assassin. But soon, the master told him of a magical stone that was powerful enough to move oceans, and that these nine men had found it. But, since the stone was now possessed by the brotherhood, it was just a matter of killing the others. As he ended the life of the leader of the templars, he learned of a tenth man who had found the stone. It was the assassin's own master. He rode back to his home and ended the life of his master. As he took the stone from the dying hands of his master, he vowed to destroy it.

"But the stone had a will of it's own, and he was unable to destroy it. Some say it is lost, and some say it was destroyed, but it has never been heard of since."

Everyone clapped a little, and then Tristan spoke up, "We should take our rest soon. Someone tell one last story. And let it be scary, so that we can be on our toes."

"I have a tale!" Leliana volunteered. "Have you heard of the tale of Ser Isaac of Clarke?"


End file.
